Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1887-07-07
scenes in a Southern City.

If 1t be afternoon when the pilgrim
from foreign'la land saunters alone and
| lonely through the town, he had better
leave the heart of the city join the
throngs that occupy the broad high
way leading to the station. writes a
correspondent from San Jose, Costa
Rica, to the San Francisco Chronicle.
It is quite the most popular paseo-a
wide street, a well-pavcd sidewalk bor-
| dcred by stone wall ingeniously ar
ranged its entire length as Il firm and
commodiouS seat Then there is the
green of trees and shrubs near at hand,
the clustered roofs Of the city beyond,
and, further still, a deep purple in the
wcstcring light the Cadelari.
The first thing the stranger notices
is that the far senoritas, although
they may wear Partisan dresses, wear
| neither gloves nor bonnets, and their
graceful forms hide their shapely con-
tour under heavy shawls drawn across
the shoulders and folded over the arms
in front. Then he secs that the maid
ems cover the natural nut-brown tinge
of their faces with rouge and powder,
in striking contrast to the brown fin
gers that gather up the folds of their
silken draperies. Their bare heads
reveal the shining waves of their abun-
dant hair. Then there is general
sense of standing in perfumcr's shop
with the shoppers drawn out of half the
bottles. Then. saddest truth ofsall
they arc not graceful. Their grand
mothers surely walked with more easy,
undulating motions when they trod
their native heath bare-footed, balanc-
ing their Ola Of water on their firm,
erectly-carried heads.
The men are Of the same order as
the women. They sit on the stone
benches or saunter aimlessly with the
stream, giving glance for glance.
Santa Maria for Santa Maria. putting
assiduously, meanwhile, at their eter-
nal cigars; well dressed, well looking,
but withal totally unlike their cous-
ms who stroll down Broadway or the
Boise.
Then as evening deepens it will not
be amiss for our traveller to wander
YEARLY down La Gale del General
Fernandez to the park. 1t is a charm
ing spot of ground, and as he seats
himself near bed of gardenias and
snowy camelias, brilliant parrot
swinging by its hooked bill to branch
overhead, toucan with golden breast
and ebon wings flashing across his
path all the gilded youth wandering in
twos and threes along the gravelcd
walk, the band will make the air musi-
cal with either slow and dreamy chords
or with the majesty of sonorous peals
that stir the heart like the trumpet-call
to battle. And so sitting, SO listening,
he may raise his eyes to the cathedral,
looming up stately and imposing
against the crimson and purple skies.
1t may be Sunday night, and the
forlorn ono rises from the dinner table
and goes to the theater; for wicked
It's, It's true"-the bells, the church
bells, all are ringing, and the jangle
and the discord drive the lost religious
thought out of his mind. 1t may be a
feast day and rockets will be flying
through the air, 'to wake up God, as
the writer heard one devout Catholic
say. BE that as it may, the jingling
of the bells makes the unfortunate long
for land where Sunday is unknown,
and where churches have no abiding
foundations.